


I will buy the flower shop and you will never be lonely

by bookwormally



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Ansem the Wise is mentioned but doesn't get a line, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Recovery, heavy on the comfort, so much talk about gardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: Radiant Garden is Hollow Bastion no more. The apprentices have become whole again, human and bearing heavy hearts. Dilan talks a walk soon after his exhausted return to find the gardens they cared for a decade ago in ruins.Fixing things takes time.
Relationships: Aeleus/Dilan (Kingdom Hearts), Aeleus/Dilan/Even (Kingdom Hearts), Dilan/Even (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Radiant Garden Family Exchange





	I will buy the flower shop and you will never be lonely

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triceraclops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triceraclops/gifts).



> Dilan's character file am I right, fellow fans?
> 
> Really inspired by all the art of Dilan with flowers, enjoy!

The first thing Dilan does, when Aeleus lets him move around again, is drag himself outside. It’s the edge of spring, foggy and cool, and the mist hides almost everything but the roofs of the houses below the castle. They could be alone over an empty world again, but even the cool air here is so much fresher than that of a place never meant to be.

Dilan walks slowly, the ache in his bones slow to fade. They are all healing still, coming to an understanding of this existence of hearts and souls again. He walks around the castle, feeling the pull of muscles, the inhale and exhale of his breathing. It feels differently now; it feels like it means something to him again. He flexes a hand open, shut, watching his fingers curl. 

Gloves are tucked into his belt, shoved into his hands by an Aeleus trying to figure out how best to help all of them. Dilan will need to sit down with him, take his hands and ask those questions that he doesn’t want to ask himself. They’ll need to talk, about themselves, about their past, and hopefully, about their new future. For now though, he walks and tries to enjoy the feeling of it. It helps more than resting and staring at walls that no longer look like home. This is him, this is his body, and this is home. Isn’t he happy to be here again? To be with his family again?

Dilan follows the path around the side of the castle and into one of the main gardens. He has to stop then, to make himself breathe. He knows, he knew that their home had become empty and barren because of their actions. That it had become  _ Hollow Bastion _ , but he hadn’t thought about what that could mean once this place was restored.

But it wasn’t magic that restored Radiant Garden. No golden light swept through the streets to turn it from hollow to radiant once again. It was hard work, the hard work of people who had suffered as this world fell to darkness by  _ their _ hands. Hard work laid brick by brick to rebuild homes and stores and beautiful places. The castle was mostly left alone, the heart of darkness. It was only a place for the Restoration Committee to try and seek answers about the ones who brought about the end.

To them, of course the grounds would be nothing but an overgrown, abandoned mess. Only darkness grew here under their hands. Darkness spread from the castle like a plague, enveloping everything that was once so  _ radiant. _ The Committee had much more important things to worry about than the gardens that they must have barely remembered from before the fall.

It hurts to see, hurts so much more than the blows of a keyblade. Dilan reaches for the closest thing: ivy curled over the fence.  _ It must be ready to fall apart. _ He tugs at some of the ivy, but it clings to the wrought iron for its life. It’s such a small thing, but he wants to  _ fix _ it, to make it right. His eyes sweep over the gardens, choked with weeds and plants run out of control. It’s a ruin. It will take weeks to fix, and he barely has the strength to walk here.

Dilan swallows, his throat tight. His hands curl into fists and he tips his head up to the sky.  _ It’s a wreck, a ruin. Everything good we ever did. Every bit of work I put into this-! _ He makes himself exhale, a harsh stream of air that leaves him in a rush. The breath back in hurts, but it gives him space to think. He looks down, at the mess, at the ruin. The gardens were the pride and joy of their city.  _ His _ pride and joy. Whatever else was going on, he found peace in the work here, in the work of dirt and seeds and growing things.

He pulls his gloves on forcefully and kneels just to the left of the gate. He rips up the weeds, one by one, making a pile at his side. The muscles of his arms and his back begin to burn, but with the feeling of honest hard work. It feels  _ good _ . He goes until his gloves are practically stained with dirt; the white will never be pure again. Dilan uses the fence to pull himself back to his feet, rubbing at his back. He’ll pay for this tomorrow, but as he looks at the spot he’s cleared, small in the grand scheme of things, he feels better. It will be hard work, long work with how far things have fallen, but it will be done. Piece by goddamn piece, he will put this back together.

Exhaustion catches up to him once he’s limped back inside, but Dilan pushes it back for a few minutes more. He heads for the kitchen and finds Aeleus bringing back a tray. Aeleus’s eyebrows lift as he sets it on the counter. “Where have you been?”

“Walking and then working outside.” Dilan tugs his gloves free from his belt and waves them in the air. “Ruined my gloves, but I got a decent start.”

Aeleus steps closer and takes the gloves with one hand. The other catches Dilan’s hand and squeezes. “How do you feel?”

Dilan arches an eyebrow. “I’m sure you can guess. My back’s going to kill me.” It gets a small smile out of Aeleus and Dilan steps closer to lean against him. “It’s a mess in the gardens. They’re overgrown and strangling themselves.”

A warm arm wraps around his back, Aeleus’s hand rubbing up and then down slowly. “The whole castle is in a state. We have a lot to do.” He says it tiredly. Dilan lifts his head to meet his warm brown gaze.

“We have a lot to do,” he echoes, “but if we take it a bit at a time, we’ll do it.” Dilan’s not sure where the conviction has come from. Between seeing the gardens fallen to ruin and standing away from a pile of freshly pulled weeds, something settled around the edges of the sharp wounds in his chest. This place was broken and twisted, but they can set it to rights.

Aeleus stares at him and then nods slowly. “Yes, we will do it.” He leans forward and Dilan meets him there, their lips pressing together softly. 

_ Piece by piece, things will slide back into place. _

* * *

Some days are sunnier, some are rainy, and some are nothing but storms. Dilan cannot go out every day, not with the weather and not with so much else going on. But he makes it a priority, finding old tools or buying new ones, tugging on heavy work gloves, and going out to face the gardens. He pulls weeds, buckets and buckets and  _ buckets _ of weeds. There are always more weeds, but he can see the ground between them now.

He tugs and cuts and snips the ivy back into shape. He frees the iron fence from its grasp, revealing the broken and rusted parts. It will need repaired and replaced and Dilan adds it to the list he and Aeleus are keeping of everything that needs fixed. It’s a long list, but he marks everything of absolute importance with a star. When Aeleus spends too long looking at it, Dilan drags him out to the garden and makes him help with the weeding. The outside air doesn’t carry the same weight as the inside.

The ache in his bones fades with the work. Dilan falls into bed, tired and sore, but in the way that he remembers as being natural. His dreams are still dark, messy things, but he sleeps more than an hour or two a night. Small improvements. He marks progress by the garden more.

The trees and bushes still need trimmed back into neater, healthier shapes. The weeds are a constant problem. The fence is broken in several places. But the flowers are starting to show again, little buds beginning to grow and point toward the sun. Dilan tells himself that when the first one fully blooms, he’ll be at peace, or close to it. This whole thing will be over.

It’s building now, tension hanging in the air and winding around their hearts as the nights seem to grow darker. Ienzo works endlessly on the projects he’s taken hold of, that his father has sent to him. Lord Ansem is home, their mentor, yet it doesn’t feel...right. Dilan and Aeleus take it in turns, checking on Lord Ansem, on Ienzo, and making sure they’re looked after. Lord Ansem likes to walk through the garden, sitting and looking at the work that’s been done with a solemn silence. Ienzo, well, he’s stubborn.

Dilan drags him outside just to give him better air to breathe than the old lab. Ienzo complains, but kneels down beside Dilan to help all the same. It’s still so strange to see him older and so expressive. When Ienzo turns a leaf over and finds a beetle that flies almost directly at his face, his shout makes Dilan break into laughter. It feels freeing, even if Ienzo smacks him in the arm for it. Even in times like this, where the universe teeters on the brink of disaster, Dilan can build this place back into the home it should be.

The war happens, a body leaves, people come home. Even looks haggard and they each fuss over him their own way. Dilan finds him in the middle of the night, sitting in the dark lounge with a cup of tea gone cold. He turns on the light over the stove and gathers ingredients from the pantry by feel more than sight. Even watches him, takes a sip of his cold tea, and makes a face. He stands and Dilan waits for him to come over, putting his cup in the sink. “What are you making?” Even asks and Dilan pushes the bowl in front of him.

“We are going to make blueberry muffins.” Dilan opens the flour and offers Even the measuring cup. “You can manage the precise measurements.”

Even gives him a rather sour look, but takes the cup. “I’m a scientist. Of course I can.” He pushes his hair out of his face and plunges the cup into the flour. It sends a small cloud of it flying and Dilan sighs. Even is going to make a mess of things as he always does in the kitchen. Still, if it brings some of the life back into his face, cleaning up is tolerable.

Flour and sugar end up spilled and scattered all over the countertops after they get into an argument on what exactly “full” means in a measuring cup. Some even ends up thrown in Even’s face, a complete mystery how he did that to himself, yes, Aeleus, to himself. Irritation at such a minor thing brings more color back to Even’s face, but it’s when Dilan puts a muffin, still warm from the oven, into his hand that he actually feels like he’s accomplished anything. Even takes a breath and then a careful bite. The tension eases off his face.

“You’re used to getting dirty in the gardens, so you can clean,” Even says. He sticks his tongue out and then sweeps from the room with the usual dramatics. Dilan rolls his eyes and takes one of the muffins for himself. Warm and sweet, it’s the perfect cap to a lonely night.

“Ass,” Dilan mutters to the empty lounge. He turns to clean, already thinking of what needs done tomorrow. He’s managed to get several of the garden beds in good shape again, so they can actually get something planted. A smile grows on his face as he realizes exactly what tomorrow will hold.

* * *

There’s a thump as two large bags of fertilizer are set down beside him. Dilan looks up, shading his eyes. “Thank you.”

Aeleus exhales, puts his hands to his back, and sighs. “This is a different work out.” He rubs his back and then wipes his forehead. “Of course it would be hot today.” Dressed only in a tank top and shorts, Aeleus’s fair skin is already starting to pink. He needs sunscreen, but that won’t stop his freckles from spreading even further over his shoulders.

Dilan enjoys his view and then points over toward the bench they set survival supplies on. “Lemonade is over there along with the sunscreen. You’re going pink.”

“Am I?” Aeleus looks at his arms and mutters a very quiet swear. “Maybe I should have worn something with sleeves.”

“I think you’re doing fine. Go reapply.” Dilan smirks at him. Aeleus leans down and kisses the top of his head too quickly for Dilan to turn and get his lips instead. With a wave, Aeleus goes over to sit on the bench and take care of himself.

With a chuckle, Dilan turns to the fertilizer and rips open the top bag. He starts to spread it over the bed he’s cleared out, working it into the soil until it feels proper. He moves down the bed, checking what’s already been planted and what yet needs to go in. The plot for the summer vegetables isn’t yet ready which is a shame. The plantings he started indoors are about to burst through their tiny holding trays. The flowers will look nice, but he wants something that they can eat. The town could use more food as well. 

He stops when he reaches Even and Ienzo, the two of them both armed with gloves and goggles as they take soil samples and test them. Even’s skin is doing slightly better than Aeleus’s, but he’s wearing sleeves and a stupidly large sun hat. That it makes Dilan want to kiss him is equally ridiculous. He looks stupid, so stupid, even as he looks up and smiles at Dilan. Dilan looks at Ienzo instead of flushing. He looks put out, but he hasn’t yet gone to pout on the bench. “Found anything useful?”

“A lot of worms,” Ienzo answers. “I’m surprised we don’t have a beetle infestation, or worse, aphids. After last time…” He shoots Dilan a look when he laughs. “In my face, Dilan!”

“And yet you have survived to complain about it.” Even rolls his eyes. “We should look into a bee house if we want to continue this little project. Good for the flowers and good for the bees.”

“Hadn’t considered that. I wonder where we could find a hive to start.” Dilan hums. “Maybe someone in town, then we’d have fresh honey too.”

Ienzo shakes his head. “Do any of us know  _ anything _ about beekeeping?” 

Even and Dilan trade a look and then they both look toward Aeleus. Aeleus notices and gives them a little wave before going back to applying sunscreen. “No,” Even says, turning back with a frown. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, no time like the present to learn.” Dilan tips Even’s hat into his eyes and then stands up. “You two are smart, I’m sure we can figure it out. Especially if someone in town keeps bees. Or maybe in Twilight Town. The kids are getting to know everybody there.”

Ienzo looks up at that, ignoring his father’s huffing about his hat. “You think? Hmm. I’ll send them all a message and see if they’ve got any ideas.”

Dilan grins at Even’s red face and pulls his gloves off. He offers Even a hand. “You can do that while we all take a break. I think we’ve earned it.”

“You think so? I figured you’d have us all out here all day. We’re not even halfway done.” Even pulls his gloves off as well and lets Dilan tug him to his feet. Ienzo is already standing, brushing dirt off of his pants. Even arches an eyebrow at Dilan, not pulling their hands apart. The goggles he’s wearing have pressed a line into the bridge of his nose.

Dilan keeps hold as well, turning to look at the garden. It’s a mess in progress, especially with their tools and supplies spread about. But, it  _ looks _ like progress, of a place in motion and growth. His eyes sweep over garden beds ready for planting, of ones still fighting the constant fight against weeds, of the fencing still waiting for repair. He pauses on Aeleus seated on the bench and offering Ienzo the sunscreen bottle as he comes closer. Ienzo’s nose wrinkles and he grabs the lemonade pitcher instead as Aeleus chuckles. He looks at the castle, rising above them all, still a place with darkness rotting in its cellar, a place they’re fighting to repair into something better than before. 

He looks at a place in progress, a place that’s been broken and fallen apart. He looks at Even, still waiting for an answer, still holding his hand. Dilan reaches up and tips Even’s hat further back. He leans in and kisses the tip of his nose, watching him go red. “We’ve got time to keep working at it,” Dilan says softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Even pulls his hand back, removes his goggles, and rubs at his nose, not quite meeting Dilan’s eyes. “Neither am I. This is our home, I want it to be a good place.”

Dilan puts his arm around Even’s shoulders and tugs him toward the bench and their family. “Then you can help me weed tomorrow too.” He laughs as Even elbows him in the side and can see Aeleus look toward the two of them, a smile splitting his face too.

It’s not perfect, but it never really was. Piece by piece, day by day, they can make it something better than before. Seeds go in the ground and grow steadily. With care, with time, Dilan can see the garden bloom again. He intends to, to see it all and weather the storms that will come. Future trouble is inevitable, but Dilan has put down roots and he won’t be torn free of them again.


End file.
